Thorne Princess(34)

“Random—”

“It’s Mr. Lockwood to you.” He stopped at the top of the stairs, whirling toward me like a storm. “Listen carefully here, Brat. My job is to protect you. I cannot do that from two doors down the hallway in a hotel. This trip is going to have maximum security. I am going to get hooked with local agents who’ll sweep the hotel, prepare exit routes, and install cameras and motion sensors, which will be wired to an operation room in a neighboring suite. You’re under my supervision, under my care, which means that you’ll be operating under my sole jurisdiction. Not sharing a room together is not an option.”

“Random,” I insisted. He’d called me Brat. “Am I in any kind of danger? This all seems so…excessive.”

“Possibly,” he said, and for the first time, he sounded honest. “You’re the daughter of one of the most prominent presidents in American history. And thanks to your social media antics, every single idiot with an electronic device knows where you live.”

“All right.” I sighed. “If you think it’s necessary.”

“I do.”

We stayed frozen on the spot, a step away from the second floor.

Ransom frowned. “What’s the catch? It’s not like you to follow simple instructions without kicking and screaming.”

“There isn’t one,” I said, bypassing him and making my way to my home gym at the end of the hallway.

Maybe I was in danger. If I was, I definitely didn’t want to get hurt just because I was trying to prove a point to this jerk. Plus, it had to be said—watching Ransom in various stages of undress while sharing a suite with him would not be the worst of punishments. How had Ransom’s rampant sexiness been able to stir a little reaction in me?

I’d been dormant for so long…what if I could really get turned on?

Was it him, or timing? Was I ready to meet someone, date…? If I wasn’t horrible to him, maybe he’d actually let me live my life and I could get out there and see if I had chemistry with someone else. He didn’t seem to be anywhere closer to quitting this job early. Perhaps learning how to live with this beast for six months wasn’t the end of the world, after all.

“If you’re up to something…” He narrowed his eyes.

I waved him off. “So skeptical. People are capable of altruism, you know?”

“Highly debatable.”

“Well, debate yourself because I’m going to hit the gym and blow off some steam.”

I disappeared into my home gym, bypassed the elliptical, treadmill, and weight rack, and went straight to the mini fridge, where I kept a supply of bottled water and my favorite gelato. I took out a Kit Kat flavored ice cream and a spoon. Some situations required more than a smoothie.

And living with the grumpiest ghoul in middle earth was one of them.





I was deep into my ice cream eating session when I decided to FaceTime Keller since he was away. Every quarter, Keller Airbnb’d a place in Palm Springs to work on his tan and try variations of new green juices that would later be introduced as Main Squeeze’s seasonal Boost Camp drinks.

Keller was just telling me about his surprising new combination of celery, kale, turmeric, and spearmint, when Ransom stormed into the gym. This time—escalation—he was only wearing a towel. A flimsy little thing, hanging from his waist teasingly. His dark hair was wet and tousled to messy perfection. Steam radiated from his body. This was the part where I would normally scream and try to stab him with a random object. Oddly, though, I was not scared.

I wasn’t the only one who caught sight of that.

“Bodyguard with benefits? Really?” Keller cooed from my phone screen, his eyes almost bulging out. “Me likey. And a little jelly.”

I gagged loudly enough for the Pope to hear in the Vatican. “It’s close protection officer. He gets touchy when you call him a bodyguard.”

“Close protection officer? Makes him sound like a condom,” Keller laughed.

At this point, Ransom decided he’d had enough of this conversation, grabbed my phone, and tossed it to the other side of the room. It fell on my lululemon yoga mattress.

Turning to face him, I made sure my expression was as blank as possible. “Care to tell me what crawled up your ass? Whatever it is, please do not try to make me pull it out of you.”

Silently, Ransom lifted his hand to reveal a piece of meat between his fingers. It looked darker than when I’d left it in his closet, and had two maggots hanging out of it, squirming, about to fall to the floor.

I cupped my mouth, fighting my gag reflex for real now.

“What the hell, Random?” I jumped up from my spot and ran out of the room and along the corridor to escape the smell. He charged after me, his stride long and purposeful. I took the stairs down. So did he.

“Get away from me!” I yelped, ignoring the fact that I had, in fact, tarnished his entire designer wardrobe with rotten meat just to get back at him. He’d had it coming. He had been horrible to me. I didn’t have many principles. But vegetarianism was one of them.

“Not until you clean up the mess you’ve created.”

Unlike the salt incident, this time he reacted to my prank. I’d finally pushed him over the edge. He was insane if he thought I was going to clean that up.

“In your dreams.” I used the kitchen island as a barrier.